


OG - A Meadow of Flowers

by lustig



Category: Dota (Video Games) RPF
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Background Relationships, Crack, Dom/sub Undertones, Drabble Collection, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Friendship/Love, Inspired by Twitter, Kissing, Language of Flowers, M/M, Mentions of other professional Dota Players, No Plot/Plotless, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Protective Team, Team Bonding, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 10:15:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22492630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lustig/pseuds/lustig
Summary: An OG Drabble Collection. From Angst to Fluff to Falling in Love to Smut. Everything is there. Not necessarily in that order.Focused mostly on Séb/Johan, but other team members will appear, too.
Relationships: Ceb | Sébastien Debs & N0tail | Johan Sundstein, Ceb | Sébastien Debs/N0tail | Johan Sundstein
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	1. OG & The Language of Flowers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wordsofhoney](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsofhoney/gifts), [sunfreckled](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunfreckled/gifts).

> Disclaimer stays the same. Those people are real people, and only they know what's going on in their heads and hearts, and that is how it should be. The story is purely fictional and just written for my pleasure. And other people's, if they so want to :-)
> 
> Also, not beta'd. Because of Drabble reasons. Might get edited in the future. Might also get additional chapters in the future. Probably when I've finished the next 10 drabbles...
> 
> And wordsofhoney is an enabler. Blame them for everything. Love you, Honey <3

### Orchid

„Dammit, Johan, are you crazy?“ I gasp, burying my head in your neck and licking away the sweat that gathers there. “Calling me _Daddy_ in front of _everyone_?!”

Your laughter quickly turns into a throaty moan and the way your hand pulls at my hair nearly makes me go _fucking mad_.

“Admit it,” you manage to huff, no denial, no sign of regret crossing your lips. You are already short on breath and delightfully pliant under my hands. “Admit it; you enjoyed it as much as I did.”

“_Fuck_,” I moan, already too close, too hard, _coming_. “Yes I did.”

### Daffodil & Rose

I stare into the brackish water of the river, my breath coming in short, desperate gasps, hands clutched around the freezing balustrade. The rain mingles with the tears on my cheeks, and I angrily try to scrub them away, already drenched down to my bones.

It is over. I fucked up. One word too much when my brain was not following my tongue, just for the tiniest moment. And I can never go back on them. Especially not after running away like this.

Someone – _Johan_ – wraps first a jacket, then himself around me, and with a sob, I turn around.

~

“Séb,” Johan breathes. There is so much pain and fear in his voice. I keep hiding my face, not ready to re-join reality. _Je t’aime_, I think, _Je t’aime je t’aime je t’aime_. It is too late, now, anyway. I told him, distracted, absent-minded, realised what I said and fled. What else should I have done?

“Do you know how worried I was? You can’t just run away like that.”

He keeps holding me, and I cannot pull back.

“Fuck, man, I thought I was the only one.”

He laughs, shakily, and quietly adds, “Je t’aime aussi, you silly Frenchman.”

### Chrysanthemum

“Do you know how pretty you look like this?” you breathe and your voice so close to my ear sends goose bumps down my back. A single finger follows my spine, taunt and arching away from the touch, because every touch of you sets my skin _on fire_.

I moan, helpless, but you will not let me go, your other arm wrapped around my chest, possessive, protective. You nuzzle my neck with your nose, with your lips, using your teeth to mark me as yours.

I sigh, letting myself fall. Don’t you know I already am? Yours? Always and completely?

### Lily

Sometimes, the way you shamelessly flirt with me in front of everyone blows my mind. Don’t you see how everyone around us notices, too? Doesn’t it worry you?

I have gotten good at fighting down the blush crawling up my neck every time you look at me like that, but blowing me a kiss _on the main stage of the International_ is unsubtle even by _you_ standards.

If I mess up the next game, I will totally blame it on you, but to be honest, your open affection is what motivates me to do my best.

So please, don’t stop.

### Freesia & Sunflower

My shoulders are shaking. You tied my hands behind my back, took away my glasses, and all I can do is stare blankly at the wall in front of me. There is nothing there to focus my gaze on, not that I could if there was, everything would be blurry, anyway.

_Would you surrender yourself to me?_ You asked, and I had only nodded, heat already crawling under my skin at the thought of it.

Kneeling here, the carpet soft below my legs, naked and so vulnerable without my glasses, bound, at your will, I feel unease starting to rise.

~

I am taking a deep breath, trying to calm myself. You would not have asked for my complete surrender if you wanted to bring me any harm. I trust you. _I trust you_.

Only when I close my eyes, trying to focus on myself, not on the rising dissonance of impressions around me, you make your move.

I can’t hear you, your steps hidden in the soft carpet, but suddenly, your finger ghosts over my cheek and I gasp in surprise, tear open my eyes.

The love I see in yours is absolute.

Kissing you has never been so sweet.

### Lilac I - III

“Are you ever going to tell him?” Jesse asks, and I look up, surprised, my head tilting in a questioning gesture.

“Tell whom what?” I ask, and something in the way I say it must tell Jesse I really don’t know. He looks somewhat crestfallen, thrown off balance, but manages a soft smile nonetheless, as he answers: “Tell Séb that you’re in love with him.”

I stare at him, start to answer _I’m not, we’re just – I’m – I…_ when the significance of the information suddenly sinks in. _Holy shit,_ _he’s right_, I think, heartbeat picking up, _I’m in love with Séb_.

~

I have listened to Johan again without actually picking up what he said, concentrated on the sound of his voice alone. It has happened more and more often these past few weeks and I have to shake myself physically out of it to get back to the here and now.

Johan has noticed, too, and worried, he stops, wraps his hand around my shoulder and asks me if I’m alright. The skin turns hot the instant he touches me, and I manage a weak _Yeah I’m fine_ while hyperventilating on the inside. Shit. _I’m in love with my best friend_.

~

Jesse throws himself on the sofa next to Topias, sighing exasperatedly and giving the door a fond look. He looks over to his teammate, who is smiling quietly into his bottle of beer, eyes half-closed and obviously enjoying himself.

“Do you think they will ever notice?” Jesse asks, getting comfortable and stealing Topias his bottle, too lazy to get his own one. “How insanely in love they are?”

“One day, maybe. If you keep pushing them.”

Jesse leans backwards, his hair standing off into every direction, and hands Topias his beer back.

“Guess I have to up my game, then.”


	2. Scenes from the Sidelines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some scenes from the sidelines, following after interesting (at least for me aka the writer) revelations from interviews.
> 
> Thanks again at Honey the Enabler.

### Pub games suck

“**_Fuck_**”, you shout, followed by a noise I can’t classify.

I rush into your gaming room, where you were playing a round of DotA last time I checked, and find you standing in the middle of the room, loudly cursing whatever pub player has woken your ire. Your chair is at the other end of the room, the headset abandoned next to the screen where the game’s colours tell me you just died.

I do the only thing I can think of, come inside and grab your neck, from behind. You instantly freeze, before slowly breathing out.

“Calm down, Séb.”

~

My body stopped listening to me the moment your hand grabbed my neck. It’s not a threatening gesture, not from you, far from it, rather the opposite, actually, but it caught me completely unawares.

I feel my knees go weak; my head is so empty right now, of the rage, the disappointment I felt only moments ago.

Sometimes I want to curse the power you hold over me, hidden in the smallest of touches. But once you realise I’m not about to pull away, you turn me around and push my head into your shoulder. _Sometimes_, I think. _Not today_.

### EG sucks too

_I don’t believe in this anymore. I don’t believe in _us_, anymore_. Your words are running in circles in my brain, followed by a rage that threatens to consume me. _We _crushed_ you. We _destroyed_ you_. The hairs on my arms are standing up, I am still stuck in the booth, staring at one name, two letters. _EG.Fly: gg_.

I distantly remember shaking your hand, but everything around me is in a red haze, and I can’t _breathe_.

A hand touches my shoulder, ruffles through my hair, and my throat, my sight clears. I turn, the weight lifted off me.

~

I run behind you the moment you turn away, your face speaking volumes. I know what this match meant to you, what winning it meant to you, but I see you are getting lost in your own mind.

You want to rush off stage, but I catch you before you managed more than a few steps, grabbing your shoulder, ruffing your hair. _I’m still here_, I tell you, wordless, _and I’m not going anywhere_.

You turn, surprised, my smile taking over your face, softening it. Your body melts into mine, shoulders tangled now.

I will always catch you. I promise.

### Dancing our last dance (I hope not)

My mouth is dry and my trousers feel too tight. I expected a lot when I managed to talk you into dancing, but finding out you did Hip Hop for nearly ten years, on a professional level, was not something I would have imagined in my _wildest dreams_.

You have become one with the rhythm, as if the beat is the one moving your body, not you, and there is a circle opening around you, I’m not the only one overwhelmed by this unexpected revelation.

I try to swallow, take another sip of my beer. Where are the toilets, again?

~

I step off the dancefloor, exhilarated but exhausted, looking around for you. I cannot remember anymore why I was so reluctant to dance before you practically pushed me to. This was great. I feel so insanely alive right now. I want to thank you, share it with you, but I cannot find you and my delight slowly turns into disappointment.

You didn’t want to dance with me, I can understand that. But you also didn’t stay and watch?

Suddenly, Jesse is there, grinning like mad, a knowing glint in his eyes, and says: “He had to go to the toilet.”

~

Watching first Séb absolutely _crush_ the dance floor with his insane moves and then Johan losing more and more colour in his face while starting to shift in a way that indicated the blood has wandered somewhere else is far too much fun.

I try not snorting into my beer when Johan finally retreats into the direction of the restrooms.

Which, of course, is the moment Séb decided his spotlight time is over and goes looking for our Captain, his expression faltering the moment he realises Johan isn’t here.

There is only one thing to do. So I do it.

### Too personal

Titouan only gives me a sympathetic smile when I get up as soon as the connection closes. I want to express to him how thankful I am, but everything in me has started screaming to go to Johan about fifteen minutes ago and I _just cannot wait any longer_.

I cross the hallway in a matter of seconds, and knock on Johan’s door, the inner turmoil making my hands shake.

“Séb?” he asks, upon opening, looking surprised.

I just step in, without words, and wrap myself around him.

“You alright?” He sounds worried.

“Yes”, I choke out. _Now I am_.

~

“What’s the matter?” I quietly ask, quite worried. Séb is trembling, ever so softly, and I don’t know what could have upset him that badly since the last time I’ve seen him. Unease is rising in me, and I hold him a little closer, start playing with his hair, his head buried in my neck. Is he crying?

“You didn’t have to do that,” he rasps, his lips moving against my skin. I am still not sure what he is talking about, and something in my posture must have told him, because after a moment, he mumbles, “The interview.”

_Oh_.

~

Johan doesn’t let go, draws me closer even, and buries his face in my hair. We stay like this for an endless moment, before he huffs out his breath and states, “You saved me, Séb,” his voice too sad, too soft.

I squeeze my eyes together, trying to suppress the tears, but it’s too late, he pulls away, his thumb brushing over my cheek.

“We wouldn’t even be here, without you.” A sigh. “_I_ wouldn’t be here.” A kiss against my forehead. “You _deserve_ that dedication.”

_I love you_, I think. When this is over, I might even say it.


	3. Cinnamon roll or no cinnamon roll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The OG family protects their own. Lil should have known better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The discussion came up who of the team are cinnamon rolls and who aren't. Got prompted with a drabble collection concerning the Cinnamon looks/Cinnamon Character/Killer Looks/Killer Character thingy.  
And then there was a tweet from another DotA player, and then that player deleted ALL their tweets after things happened.  
I couldn't help myself. 10 connected Drabbles for the new roster. Also, it's Honey's fault.

### Martin “Saksa” Sazdov

It hurt. That was the first thing I realised. I had been staring at the tweet for ages, unblinking, a lump slowly forming in my throat.

It hurt.

The dismissive way Ilya treated the results of my hard work, talking them down into nothingness should not affect me like this, but he had been in the scene for such a long time that I could not help but listen to his opinion, give it at least a second thought.

Maybe he was right, and trying different builds on different heroes to gain greater versatility _was_ the better way to train.

### Jesse “JerAx” Vainikka

“You alright?” I ask Martin, staring at him worriedly. His expression had frozen a few minutes ago, eyes glued to the screen of his phone, though the display had long turned black.

He looks up; looking lost, starts nodding but decides against it, softly shaking his head instead. I come over, drape myself over his shoulder and nod towards the phone.

“Show me.”

_Lil is such an asshole_, I think after reading, my jaw clenching.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s just jealous. We didn’t take you because of your three top rankings. We took you because you’re an _amazing _player.”

### Johan “N0tail” Sundstein

Cold rage is burning through me while my fingers fly over the keyboard of my phone. I will not allow some jealous, ignorant asshole to talk down my teammates, no matter if veteran or not. Lil has opened his mouth too far once too often.

Martin is the perfect addition to OG – a bit shy, super talented, eager to learn. I knew it when I first watched him play, and Séb and Jesse instantly gave their blessing when I brought him up as Jesse’s replacement.

I hope Martin is not alone right now.

And I will end Ilya for that.

### Sébastien “Ceb” Débs

Johan’s body tensing up is what draws me out of my light slumber. Still drowsy, I turn around, drape my arm over his waist and snuggle closer. Pressing my nose into his neck and a soft kiss to the bare skin, I bask in the glory of his naked body against mine.

“Lil is being a little shit to Martin,” Johan growls, “on Twitter.”

I pull him closer and sigh. “Is he okay?”

“Jesse is with him.”

“Good. Then he’ll be fine.”

After another kiss to his shoulder, one finger stroking over his stomach, Johan slowly starts to relax again.

### Anathan “Ana” Pham

The first thing I do after seeing the tweets on Lil’s twitter is write Saksa. I have not met him yet, but from what the others say, he seems to be a really nice, decent dude.

_I got flamed a lot after TI7_, I type, _Don’t listen to it. If the team believes in you, that’s all that matters. OG Fam is protecting their own._

The second thing I do is write Johan. Séb probably already took care of it, but Séb can be very blind when it comes to Johan.

_Lil is playing EU quals. Go kick his ass._

### Titouan “Sockshka” Merloz

Aggressive Mode got second place in Group A. They will be playing against us in the semi-finals, for the Major qualification spot. I nearly punch Séb, on accident, when I jump up, shouting excitedly as the last, confirming _GG_ gets called.

After the excitement comes the focus.

I already wished for Lil’s stack to land in our group, but playing against them in the finals is even better.

“I want you to wipe the floor with them,” I tell my team when we prepare for the match. “And for every kill you get on Lil, I’ll buy you a round.”

### Yeik “MidOne” Nai Zheng

Watching – no, being _part_ of the fierce protective shield forming around Martin was an experience in itself. It wasn’t that we weren’t there for each other in Secret or other teams before, but the family spirit of OG actually _is_ quite different.

And in a way, it might have helped us click together a little faster. Threats from the outside are always a great motivator to stick a bit closer.

So, when the game starts and Ilya sends his stupid little _gl saksa_, my tip is there faster than Martin’s reply.

_We are family now. I am here for you._

### Sumail “SumaiL” Hassan

“**_Nice!_**”

Johan’s shout is the only thing I hear, and the grin spreads over my face, my hands finally standing still while the picture of the crumbling Ancient spreads over my screen.

Rampage, after GG had already been called, and the last kill was Lil’s Rubick, standing in the fountain.

It feels good, winning like this – not just for the sake of winning, but for the team and the defence of our honour.

Johan clasps my shoulders, squeezes them, and I look up, satisfied and still grinning.

“You played like a monster, Sumail.”

Their appreciation is all I need now.

### Topias “Topson” Taavitsainen

I run after Lil who has appeared to defend the tower. The familiars don’t stop me for long, but enough for Visage to get out of range, so it’s the Disruptor who gets snot all over himself while I follow them deeper into their high ground.

The game started to bore me a few minutes ago, Bristleback isn’t complex enough, so I really don’t care that fountain farming doesn’t work anymore and run straight into the pit.

Disruptor and Bristle die. Visage doesn’t. Tips are coming out.

I lean back, grinning. My team is laughing.

Next time, Lil will die.

### Martin “Saksa” Sazdov

We are at the third of Titouan’s promised six rounds, qualifiers successfully completed, when Johan looks at me and the way I thoughtfully turn the glass in my hands.

“What’s the matter, Martin?”

The others fall silent far too fast, all eyes suddenly focused on me. I tense, but the last few days showed me they want me anything but harm, so I carefully breathe out and answer, “You know, you didn’t have to do this, right?”

“No, we didn’t,” Johan confirms, looking around at our teammates, “but we wanted to.”

And in the end, that is all that matters.


	4. Random thoughts and pictures

### On Fire

Your skin tastes like ashes and smoke, hot to the touch, burning me, and I gasp, lips already chafed. I feel laughter vibrating through your chest, more than hearing it, and melt into the hand at the back of my neck.

Pain and pleasure both make me moan, it is too intense, too much, but my tears dry long before my forehead touches your chest and I cannot help but sob at how much I craved this, how much I wanted this. How much I need this.

“You make me feel so alive, Séb,” you breathe.

_I am on fire_.

### After True Sight

Your cheeks still taste like salt, and it nearly makes me tear up again. I knew you had been crying, your missing laughter a void in the last minutes of the show. I lost a tear or two myself, but with Kuro there, I could not let myself fall the way I wanted to. The way I would have, with you.

I breathe in your scent, my forehead pressed against your temple, eyes closed. I feel shaken; the emotions of that moment they captured for all eternity on screen coming back full force.

I need you. I need you _now_.

~

I feel your shaky breath, how you are fighting against the tears again, as you did during the movie, and wish you would just let yourself fall. You are stronger than me, always have been, so I cherish the moments I get to hold you like you really need me.

I close my eyes; turn my face in yours. We don’t have much time. I don’t want to waste it.

A stolen kiss.

Your lips taste like salt, and you sigh my name, melting into me. We crumble together, like we were unable to do earlier.

A stolen eternity. Together.

### Kissing

You taste like tobacco and beer, and I wish I could get you to stop your blasted smoking, but I am as addicted to your taste as you are to your cigarettes.

And I know you know that.

I moan, weak and pliant under your hands and you pull back, softly biting into my throat. My head falls back, granting you more access, my every pant accompanied by a soft whining sound.

A part of me wants to fight you, overstimulated as I am, but the rest of my body sings for your every touch. Your kisses are my Nirvana.

~

The way you gasp into my mouth, submitting to me with this absolute abandon, body and soul, very nearly kills me.

I don’t know how I deserved you.

I need to pull back, need to collect myself so as not to come just then and there, and bury my teeth in your neck. A warning. A begging.

You listen to neither, your head just falling back further, offering your throat to me, offering _yourself_ to me. My hands roam over your overheated skin, you’re whining, a pathetic little noise.

I want to go supernova every time I hear it.

_Mine._

### Just some bedtime fluff

The mattress dips down and the blanket lifted up when you slip in. It pulls me out of sleep and into awareness, not yet awake but on the way there.

I grumble, maybe growl a little in discontent at being disturbed, but you just shush me, and your kiss to my temple pacifies me enough to calm down again.

“Don’t mind me, Séb,” you murmur, and I close my eyes again, my body going lax as you snuggle up to me, spooning me from behind with your arm draped across my midriff.

Falling asleep is always easier with you there.

### Not really a sick fic

I have been standing in the door for nearly five minutes, now, watching you get more and more agitated, muttering to yourself in French, your speech peppered with far too many curse words.

You lost the last three games, and you’re tilted as fuck right now, but I know you want to at least finish the day on a win, and I don’t see it happening anytime soon.

I take a sip of the coffee in my hands, the temperature is just right, and finally step next to you, making my presence known with a simple squeeze of your shoulder.

~

I look up when you squeeze my shoulder. Your soft smile, your touch, resolves some of the tension I feel. This game isn’t going the way I want it to, much like the three games before that. Your smile is knowing, a bit compassionate.

There are days where nothing is going right. Maybe today is one of them. At least for DotA.

“I made you coffee,” you say, and put a cup down next to my keyboard. I stare at it, dumbfounded, but I can’t really do anything besides farming right now, so I carefully take a sip.

It’s perfect.

### Dancing, again

He could not un-see it anymore. After Epicenter, every time he looked at Séb, while he was wearing his headphones, while there was some music just coming from some speakers _somewhere_, while he was simply not paying attention to his surroundings, Séb was moving with the rhythm in and around him.

Nothing major. A certain swing to his step, a finger drumming to the beat, a barely perceptible nodding of his head. But it was there, and Johan did not know how he had missed it, in all those years.

Séb had music running through his veins. All the time.

### Smoking

You inhale; with your eyes closed and your expression so relaxed, it’s starting to look grim. I see your Adam’s apple move, and with your next exhale, the air around you fills with smoke, white, grey, swirling, and in points reflecting the bright pink.

My trousers are tight, my throat, too. I only stare at you. I don’t think I will ever be able to smoke again without seeing you with my cigarette between your lips, smoke curling around you.

Your eyes flutter open, you give back the cigarette, and putting it between my lips again, I imagine kissing you.


	5. Quarantine and Overstepping a Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The racism affair from 2019, N0tail's sickness during Epicenter 2019 and something sweet set during the current Corona Crisis.

### How could you (the racism affair)

_Sébastien, stop ghosting me, please._

I have turned off the sound of my computer, tired of the constant _pling_ from messages flooding into all my social media accounts. Questions. Accusations. Threats.

I have not yet answered any of them. Have not had the energy, except for that angry reply on reddit I already start to regret. My blood has long stopped boiling, steam and anger changed to a feeling of lostness and fear.

Nothing more has come from you, after that message, hours ago now.

I do not know how to answer it.

This time, I messed up for real.

~

The doorbell’s ring shakes me out of my stupor, my blank stare at the screen, and I go to open it on automatic, it is probably only the mail carrier.

When I find myself face to face with you, instead, I nearly throw the door closed again, but you follow my steps faster than I can stumble backwards.

How can you be here? You were in Denmark only this morning.

There is so much disappointment in your face. I am waiting for you to make a move, anxious, hopeful. _Terrified_.

You do nothing.

The absence of your touch physically hurts.

~

You stand there like an injured animal, trapped in a corner. Feral. Afraid. Ready to fight. Ready to run. I swallow, my throat tight.

I am upset, but not for the reason you think I am. I have seen you tilted bad enough to uninstall DotA in the middle of a match. You easily get upset over a game; that is nothing new.

But you have never actively shunned me before. It hurts, more than I dare to admit.

Do you think I will not stay by your side, trying to find a solution to this mess you have created?

~

“Sébastien,” I finally start, when it becomes obvious you will not say a thing. You flinch upon hearing your name, give me a pained glance, but you look away the next second.

“Sébastien, _why_?” Why are you avoiding me? Why did you not answer me? Why are you not looking at me? Why do you not trust me enough to let me help you? Why, why, why, too many questions, not enough answers.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“But you did.” We speak about two different things. But both answers work for both questions.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think that’s enough.”

~

My eyes are burning, but closing them only stops me from seeing the expression of disappointment on your face. I swallow, try to breathe, exhale shakily.

“What do you need me to do?”

You do not answer, for a long time.

“I need you to talk to me. To change enough that something like this won’t happen again in the future. You will also need to write a public apology and I am sure there will be some consequences to follow from Valve.”

You pause there, before adding, quietly: “I am not sure I can stop them from banning you.”

~

You look like you are about to hyperventilate when I mention them banning you, but I have had a lot of time during the flight to check social media and they all scream for your head. Someone of our fame and status should not lose it like this in pubs. No matter how idiotic someone else acts, damning a whole nation is just _wrong_.

I need you to see that.

Your expression, your whole body language, tells me it is finally sinking in.

When the first sobs start wrecking your body, I step forward and pull you into my arms.

### Really a sick fic

I do not know how many nights I have stayed by your bedside by now, unable to sleep, unable to rest, worried sick. Your health has deteriorated with a scaring speed, and by now, it is obvious you will not be able to play with us at the Major, no matter what you claim otherwise.

You have finally fallen asleep, pale as a ghost, gaunt and worn out. I hope the vomiting will take a break for more than an hour or two; you deserve to get this rest.

I will watch over you. For however long it may take.

~

“Hey,” I murmur, sitting down on the bed next to you. My hand pushes a strand of your hair away from your forehead, clammy with sweat. “We did it. We managed to get enough points to qualify for TI.” My voice is already cracking at the corners.

You cannot hear me, and it is the only reason I cannot stop myself from crumbling, sobs wrecking my body, my fingers digging in the duvet, my face pressed into the crook of your neck.

I do not even know if you are asleep or unconscious.

Seeing you like this breaks my heart.

~

You look adorable, sprawled over my bed, with your arms possessively slung over my body, your hair a mess, your face scrunched into a frown, even in sleep. Moonlight is falling into the room, giving you a ghostly pale colour, skin in stark contrast to the dark hair.

I raise a hand, weak as a kitten, and touch your hair. You startle awake, gasping in a breath and then blink, disoriented, before looking at me.

Something shifts in your face, maybe it is only the shadows, and your hands start shaking.

“Hey,” I greet you, voice rasping.

“Johan. You’re awake.”

### Something soft for the Corona pandemic

_French fry, really?_ I write you and cannot avoid the grin taking over my face. I fear it is far too sappy, but you are not here to see it.

Being stuck at home sucks, even as a person not going out _a lot_. But just having the option is missing now, and it puts me _on edge_.

Your reply is instantaneous, a blow-kiss-smiley and an easy _Wanna talk?_

I miss you. I miss you more than I can say.

So how could I say no to you? I have never before been able to do so.

_Sure, gimme 2mins?_


	6. Something soft and something angsty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some stuff for the ESL One LA group stage in Corona times. But also other things.

### Johan’s and other creatures

We have maybe two hours before our next match, depending on how long the current series will take. Enough time for a nap, but no matter which position I take on the sofa, my brain is wide-awake, giving me a constant supply of drafts, hero combinations and item builds.

I sigh, frustrated, when Sébastien slides into the seat next to me and invitingly pats his thighs. For a split second, I just stare at my teammate, before unceremoniously dropping my head onto his lap.

As I close my eyes, Sébastien starts massaging my head, and my brain finally shuts down.

~

I watch Johan go from lying down to sloth draping to reverse Sand King while I finish writing down some notes, before being unable to bear with the constant twisting and turning anymore.

I do not need to say anything when I cross over and beckoned Johan to get comfortable on me instead, starting to rub his head as soon as Johan’s movement has quieted down again.

Johan is out like a light in the blink of an eye, and with his soft breaths evening out, I lean forward and press a kiss to his temple, my hands never stopping.

~

It is a familiar picture, Séb and Johan and the way their bodies interact with each other without them needing to say a word. They are in tune in a way Jesse has never before seen between two people, not even with Tal still around. One word, one touch, and they turn each other’s worst anger into a soft smile, into laughter.

The way Johan falls asleep nearly the instant Sébastien starts rubbing his head makes Jesse think that maybe, Johan’s body had just been waiting for his counterpart to come over.

They are hopeless, together.

They are beautiful.

Together.

### Losing (control and your heart)

Something you have always been good at is sensing my emotions, and, when they drag me down too far even for you to snap me out again, offering me an outlet, a safe environment to work through it: Yourself.

When I need it the most, your body surrenders to me, pushing into my hands, soft and pliable. There is trust, and love, in your eyes when I press you against whatever is closest, and myself into you.

I do not understand why you let me do this.

But your love drowns my roaring anger - always has, and always will.

### Group stage, Virtus Pro

I hear it in your breath, in the way you stop talking, how close you are to just rage-quitting out of the game. So it does not come as a big surprise to me that, the instant the Ancient’s HP hit zero, you disconnect from the call.

Instead, it is Sumail who surprises me, with being the first to ask, into the sudden silence, _Is he gonna be okay?_, and I find a few words to reassure them. You get tilted so easily, but my chest still aches for you even after four years spend with you by my side.

~

I do not try to call you; you would not pick up anyway. But Charlie, your brother and, more importantly, flatmate, does, after just one ring.

He sounds relieved to hear me and brings me to your room. I do not say anything, until I hear your gruff _Oui?_

_Séb_, I answer, and add, _don’t dare to hang up_, because I can already imagine your finger twitching towards the little red phone symbol.

_Johan_. Not a question, nothing more. You sound resentful. That is okay.

I do not need you to answer.

I just need you to stay.

With me.

~

The longer I listen to the silence stretched between us, the more my throat constricts.

I am waiting for you to start the conversation, but you remain stubbornly quiet and the longer I wait, the more my anger crumbles, giving way to bone-deep dissatisfaction at myself and the way I played today, the way the games around us just kept falling apart. 0/10/5 on Brewmaster, 3/9/9 on Batrider, two heroes I _know_ I usually shine on.

VP outdrafted us in the first game, but the second should have been ours.

I messed up.

Stop forgiving me every time I do.

~

Your breathing gets shakier the longer I listen to it, and I wonder if you started to cry just because we lost to our group’s strongest opponent, which would not make sense to me. It is not playoffs time, we are still second on the scoreboard, nothing has changed, really.

I feel so _fucking helpless_ stuck in Denmark while you are a world away in France.

I want to hold you. I want to kiss your forehead, bury my nose in your hair, see through your struggles without needing words.

But you shut me out.

Let me in, Séb.

Please.

~

The tears shock me more than I would like to admit. I blink, and my lashes come away wet, my breathing heavy and laboured.

Today, the games, the losses, they were just the last drop, the last spark on a barrel full of gunpowder – emotions running in shrinking circles, the current situation, the whole being-stuck-at-home is driving me mad, slowly but surely.

It was just a matter of time until it would blow up in my face.

_Séb, breathe,_ your voice cuts through my spiralling thoughts and I gasp, drowning, holding onto you.

_Listen to me_, you whisper. _I’m here_.

### Last game of Group Stage

GG is called and I congratulate my teammates, our upper bracket position for the playoffs now secured. I let myself drift, surrounded by their excited chatter, discussing the moves they pulled, the fights they won. The fights _we_ won, I suppose.

I feel strangely disconnected, staring blankly at the screen, still in the lobby. Steam tells me I have a new message and I open it on automatic.

_You played well_.

A tired smile spreads over my face. Séb.

_Are you okay?_

_I’ll be alright._

I swallow, my throat tight.

Winning feels tasteless like ash without you by my side.


	7. Iconic Duos: OG and the Upper Bracket, Doubting and OG

### That series against Secret

_Secret.Puppey.uwin: gg_

I stare at the message and wonder if my concussion is messing with my eyesight now.

Johan is shouting in excitement, loud enough that his microphone starts stuttering. I hear a mad giggle that sounds enough like Jesse that I wonder who of the other three has given his account to my Finnish brother.

“We did it, boys! This is actually serious! We won!”

A grin spreads over my face, the feeling of _winning_ not setting in yet, we were in the middle of a fight in the river just seconds ago.

Puppey must be so tilted now.

~

“I’ve got a third one.”

It nearly gets lost in the Talk of Battle we are having, throwing around skills, heals, motivations, warnings.

But for a moment, everything fall silent, before mad laughter takes over and we throw ourselves onto the highground again, buybacks have already been used, Secret are falling like flies to our reborn King.

Their lives just melt away.

Throwing body after body at them until Sumail was strong enough to carry us all to victory has worked, after all.

We have not had a game as messy as this for quite some time.

It feels glorious.

~

“That was a wild ride!” Martin sounds breathless, and if Séb’s own reaction is anything to go by, Martin’s hands are probably still shaking.

What a game.

He has not yet found time to look at the statistics, trying his best to calm down. Janne is writing him, too, asking for a short interview for his stream.

“Well, welcome to OG DotA,” Johan drawls into the post-game chatter. “Three rapiers on the carry, crazy comebacks and losing sight of your hero. You haven’t really played until this moment, boys!”

He is, most certainly, right.

This is teambuilding.

This is OG.

~

_Still up for a chat?_

Séb’s fingers move on automatic, video-calling instead of answering.

Johan joins in, looking completely at peace, leaned back in his chair, a Ceb-scarf around his neck.

“You look like shit, man,” he greets Séb, a spark in his eyes that makes Séb’s heart sing. He smiles.

“I feel great. You look a little blue there, though.”

“Gotta keep something of you by my side when you can’t be here in person, now, don’t I?”

“I miss you too, man, I miss you too.”

For the first time in weeks, saying it does not hurt anymore.

~

They keep talking until Johan notices how Séb’s eyes start losing focus. He is still smiling, but exhaustion is taking over and Johan feels bad for keeping him awake even longer.

They can joke about brain damage resulting in smarter plays all they want, but Séb could have been seriously injured. The thought of _losing_ _Séb_ scares the shit out of Johan.

He wants to say something, when Séb states, quiet and serious: “I’m really glad I played tonight. Haven’t had this much fun in a series for quite some time.”

“Me too,” Johan agrees, equally quiet, “It was perfect.”

### Jesse feels for the finals

It felt good, watching OG play, first the series against Vikin.gg, then the Grand Finals against Virtus.Pro.

It felt strange, watching OG play, as an outsider, no matter if Jesse had already done so during the qualifiers and the WeSave Charity Play.

It felt unsatisfying, watching OG play, and lose, because the players did not know how to play with each other well enough, and split-second decisions could lead to errors could lead astray.

It felt wonderful, watching OG play, watching them succeed, even without him.

Yet a part of his heart bled, because they were moving on.

Without him.

~

Séb’s eyes flickered over the members in the call on automatic. His heart skipped a beat when he read a third name there, so very familiar, so very loved.

“Oh, Jesse!” he exclaimed, the tiredness, the exhaustion of seven hours of gameplay, the dissatisfaction at himself for losing this last game blown away.

He had not been able to speak to Jesse in… two weeks? Three? When had the online league madness started?

It had been too long, that was for sure.

“Jesse,” he tried again, answering Janne on autopilot, until his words sank in.

Jesse was not there, yet.

~

“Hey man.” Jesse greeted him, soft and warm.

Séb closed his eyes and sighed. “It’s so good to hear your voice again.”

Jesse laughed, quiet but content. “Thanks for waiting up. I know how brain-dead you must be.”

Séb made a non-committal sound. He knew he would fall asleep sooner rather than later, but he currently was in no state to drive home, anyway. Staying in his chair in the office, lulled to sleep by Jesse’s voice, sounded like the perfect plan.

“How’ve you been?”

And Jesse, no explanation, no further words needed, started talking, like a story-teller of old.

### The beginning of the Retirement Rush?

_Universe is out, too_.

The message pops up in the middle of a teamfight, and the half-second distraction is enough to miss a spell or two and die.

Unlike most other times when I am dying because of my own imbecility, this time, I do not start to tilt, to my own surprise.

But there is something urgent in your message, and ensuring your wellbeing has always been one of my highest priorities.

So I open our conversation while waiting to respawn, and send you the first thing that comes to my mind.

_Don’t worry Johan, I’m not going anywhere._

### Socks in socks and crocs

“_What_ is _that_?” Séb sounds completely aghast, and Titou follows his horrified gaze down to his feet.

“The new OG socks,” he answers, a little confused, and blinks owlishly at his friend.

“I’m not talking about the _socks_,” Séb rasps, his voice hoarse, his eyes still fixed on the abomination they perceive. “You are wearing _sandals_!”

“They are very comfortable!” Titouan tries to defend himself and wiggles his toes. “And it’s too warm for sneakers.”

“Titou! You can’t wear socks in sandals!”

“Why not?”

“Because… you just can’t!”

“…Okay.”

Séb sighs, audibly relieved.

“I’m just gonna grab my crocs then.”


	8. True Sights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A 5+1 and a little Extra. Most of this has happened thanks to Freckles, so this chapter is for them <3

### Spoils for the victor

“My bad.” Ana’s expression speaks volumes, and the way he draws back rings a chord deep inside of Séb.

Ana will blame himself for their loss, Séb knows it like he knew the incoming Meepo pick. He also knows they are not going to reset if he does not change Ana’s opinion on this.

Séb has had a lot of experience in being the big brother, and he has long since adopted Ana into his makeshift family. They are going to win TI together, _again_. Séb knows it.

And he has enough confidence to make Ana believe in it, too.

### The Tilt Jar

“And last but not least, the Tilt Jar.”

Martin looks at the more-than-half filled glass jar, then at Sumail, who looks at Yeik, who looks at Johan, and warily asks, “...the Tilt Jar?”

Johan grins crookedly, and laughter crinkles the corners of his eyes.

“Well, you’re now in the team with one of the world’s most easily tilted players. We gotta control him _somehow_.”

“And that _works_?”

“Not really. But we get free pizza every now and then.”

“How often?”

“Depends on the patch, really. Usually once a month. But,” the smile turns wicked, “once it took only three days.”

### We are Ogre Magi

“So, you’d be ready to share your whole life with me,” I tease Séb, the two of us the last ones lingering in voice chat together after the games, like we do so often these days. “Anything to say in your defence?”

“I love you.”

I swallow, thrown off balance by the seriousness of his statement. We are both suffering under the current situation, but it has been so long now that I have become worryingly good at ignoring _how_ _much_.

Séb does not need to say anything more.

“I know.” _I’m sorry. I miss you._ “I love you too.”

### 5 times Jesse walks into Cebtail thinking he’s the only one this keeps happening to and 1 time he realises he isn’t

Jesse was already on his way towards the showers, after an exhausting day of group stage matches, when he realised he had forgotten his hoodie in the team’s gaming room.

He went back without thinking; walked towards his chair, when movement in the corner of his eyes made him stop dead in his tracks.

Johan and Séb were still there, Séb sitting, Johan leaning over him, one hand on the armrest, one on Séb’s face. They were kissing, and Jesse carefully cleared his throat.

“You gotta be more careful if you want to keep this secret.”

They both blushed beautifully.

~

Team-holidays after a successful tournament run were a delight. It gave them a chance to spend time with each other without the pressure the game put on them. They were friends, after all and first and foremost.

It made them open up around each other.

But Jesse could still live without walking into Séb and Johan’s make-out session in a hidden corner of the beach when he went looking for them. Dinner was waiting.

He turned around, went back out of sight and called their names. Loudly.

“Sorry,” Johan said, sheepishly, when they came stumbling, hands entwined.

They looked happy.

~

They were boot camping, and there was only so much time between scrims, team-bonding exercises and sleep. It put them all on edge, but Jesse knew that Johan and Séb were probably suffering the most – because there was no time for them to spend _alone_ with each other.

So Jesse should not have been surprised when the noise he had heard from an unlit hallway turned out to come from his captain and his lover.

He had turned on the light to far too much skin and an obvious hand below a t-shirt.

It was starting to become embarrassing, really.

~

The music’s beat was palpable even in the toilet. Jesse already suspected what he would find here, it was not hard to guess from the smouldering looks Johan had given Séb after watching him rule the dance floor with his ridiculously tight clothes and sick dancing skills.

However, this was a little exhibitionistic even for them.

Jesse looked away as fast as he could. It was still too late.

He did not think he would be able to forget the way Séb’s lips had wrapped around Johan’s cock anytime soon.

“We’re going home,” he told the wall. “Please stay safe.”

~

Séb’s apartment smelled like breakfast, and that, more than anything else, managed to drag Jesse out of his room and into the kitchen.

There, he took one look at how Séb had pressed Johan against the counter, a hand in his pants, and rolled his eyes, going for the fruit bowl on the table instead. This had happened far too often, lately.

They stopped when they noticed him, both blushing, both fumbling.

“I’m just getting a banana,” Jesse grinned, peeling the fruit. “I’ll leave you two to it.”

And, looking up and straight into their eyes, he deep-throated the banana.

~

He was deep in discussion with Ana, about different builds for Io, when they turned around a corner and nearly walked straight into Séb and Johan.

The two of them were being fairly innocent in comparison to other times Jesse had already walked into them, but Jesse’s hand was in front of Ana’s eyes before he had realised himself what was going on, anyway.

“Don’t look, Ana, you don’t want to see this.”

Ana just snorted.

“Thanks, Jesse, but you have no idea how often I’ve seen their butts already.”

And Johan buried his head in Séb’s shoulder and laughed.

### Flower up

_Whom did you talk into setting up a partnership with a flower shop?_ I write, but before you can send more than an ominous smiley, the doorbell distracts me.

When I open, I am handed an enormous bouquet of flowers and can only stare, gobsmacked.

I do not think anyone has ever gifted me flowers before. It is not considered an appropriate gift for a male person, no matter how much I enjoy them.

But I do not need to check the note to know it comes from you.

It makes me fall in love with you all the more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **+1 extra: It’s a dog’s life**  
The sun is shining softly on my fur and I grumble in contentment, keeping my eyes closed to keep Johan thinking I am still asleep.  
It is to no avail, though. He probably smells I woke up, or notices the faster heartbeat, and an instant later, his paws press onto my ribcage. He is licking all over my snout and ears.  
"Johaaaan," I whine and put a paw on my nose, but he just yaps excitedly.  
"C'mon, Jesse! It's nice outside! Let's play!"  
So I get up, stretch languidly, turn around and _pounce_.  
Johan's yelp is music in my ears.


End file.
